A Southern Boy
by thinkitover
Summary: America has a little brother that no one knows about. When Conner L. Jones convinces Alfred to let him go to the World Meeting building, Alfred tells him not to go anywhere. So Conner walks into the World Meeting 30 minutes in. When the other countries figure out who he is, they also figure out there's a reason Alfred has big houses. Rated T for Conner's language.
1. Chapter 1

I watch my brother from across the table. His blonde hair with a cowlick, bright blue eyes, and rectangular glasses. I smirk at him and say, "So…no hero shit today?"

He glares at me and replies angrily, "Leave me alone. There's a world meeting at our place today, jerk." My smirk grows wider and he gets more annoyed.

"Can I come? Or…" I pause as if just thinking of something, "I could substitute for you!" I grin evilly, already knowing what his answer was going to be.

"NO! You can't come and you can't substitute," America growls, glaring at me over the table. I roll my eyes, and sigh.

"Blah blah blah. Why can't the other 'real' countries see me?" I ask, matching his glare with one of my own.

Alfie rubs his eyes and replies, almost wearily, "Conner, I don't have time for your nonsense." I shrug and stand up.

"Oh yeah. When am I getting my weapons back?" I ask almost cautiously. Alfie glares at me and points toward the door. "Fine, fine. Good God, Alfie. Lighten up a bit ya?" I call over my shoulder with a grin. Oh how I love annoying him! I duck as a fork flies over my head. "MISSED!" I hear a crash and know Alfie just knocked down his chair. I race up the stairs and into my room. I slam the door shut and lock it. I turn around, heaving. I see the good ole Flag on my bed. I go to my closet and ruffle through the clothes. I lift my old gray uniform out of the corner of the closet.

I smooth it out on my bed almost lovingly. I look at the badges on the pocket and I take the hat off the hook and put it on my head. I take each piece of the uniform off the clothes hanger and put it on. Even if I wasn't going to the meeting didn't mean I couldn't look good. I take my empty gunpowder horn and hook it on my belt. I fix the empty knife sheaths on my belt. I sling the rifle strap across my back although it doesn't have a rifle. I click my heels together and salute myself in the mirror. I smile at myself, the messy dark blonde hair, the muddy green eyes, the cracked rectangle glasses.

I turn and march out of the room. Even though normally I was a pain in the ass, my twin always had someone to talk to. But normally he went to Canada. I scowl, thinking how it was after the Civil War. Suddenly a lightbulb goes off in my head, and I grin. Maybe…since it the meeting is at our place…I grin evilly, creating a plan.

I watch Alfred run around making sure he has everything ready. I roll my eyes and say, "You HAVE everything bro." He glances at me and flashes a quick smile. I smile a gentler smile, normally one I reserve for after we've gone through a battle. "Just wish I was coming with you…" I sigh.

America frowns and walks quickly toward me, trying to ignore the uniform. He envelopes me in a hug and says, "One day Confederacy. One day." I nod, faking sadness.

"Hey! Can I come to the world meeting building and hang out somewhere while the meetings going on?" I ask hopefully. America frowns thinking.

"I guess so…just…be careful. And you can't come out until I say," he warns.

I nod. As we walk down the steps, I fix my face in my no-bullshit expression. I sit in the back of the car with Alfred. I watch the trees flash by, and rain beat against the window.

When we get to the meeting building I stare at it like a child at an amusement park. "Woah…I get to go in there?" I ask dubiously. America nods, smirking. I glower at him and open the door. We both slide out and I make a joke, "Hey, last time I saw you this nervous was…oh yeah! Two minutes ago!" We laugh and he slings an arm across my shoulders as we walk up the steps. I shove him playfully and he stares at me like I did something offensive.

"Ooh! You did not just do that!" he shouts grinning like an idiot. I grin back and stick my tongue out. He gets me in a headlock and gives me a noogie.

"Ow! Ow ow! Ok, ok, I give in!" I shout playfully.

He smirks and says, "Say I'm the hero!"

"I'm the hero."

"Say it!"

"Fine, fine. You're the hero. Now can you let me go?" He laughs and lets go. I open the door for Alfie, and he nods to me. I nod back, smiling softly. I walk in after him and he leads me to a door on the second floor near the meeting room.

"Here ya go Conner! Now I gotta get going, kay?" he asks. I nod and sit at a chair in the small empty room. He dashes out and closes the door behind him. I wait for thirty minutes, then open the door. No one's in the hallway, and I step out into it. I walk along the corridor, listening at each door. I stop at a door that has voices coming out from behind it. I can make out a few voices that are near the door.

"He's so fat and stupid."

"Yeah, it's because of the fat food he eats so much."

"Why does he always call himself a hero when he does nothing?"

I feel my anger bubbling beneath the surface, and try to shove it down. Nope, not gonna happen. I know they're talking about Alfie, and I get pissed when someone insults him. He's _my_ brother, _my_ punching bag, _only I_ can insult him!

I open the door and yawn, stretching. All voices stop and I hear one hiss through the room, "Go. Back. To. Your. Room." I open my eyes to see countries staring at me, and my brother glaring daggers at me.

I grin, and bark a short, sharp laugh. "But, why would I do that _Alfie_?" I ask innocently, grinning. Several countries turn to look at America for an explanation. I gasp in mock shock, making sure everyone knew I already knew, "Oh Alfred! You didn't tell them about your so-called 'beloved' little brother?" I march stiffly into the room and ignore everyone completely.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**

 **Hey! Just wanted to inform everyone, Conner insults one country. And his brother. Kay! Just wanted to warn you guys.**

"Yeah…I'm not mad 'bout that. Anyhow where the hell is the bathroom?" I ask twiddling with my gunpowder horn. While I'm waiting for an answer, I take off my glasses to clean them. Alfred stands up while I'm doing this so I don't exactly realize how pissed he is.

"Conner. Room. Now," he hisses. I glance up at the taller boy and smile sheepishly.

"Why?" I ask bravely. He glares at me and I start to think maybe this wasn't _such_ a good idea. "I-I mean…why do I have to sit in a room all by myself when you said I could meet the other countries someday," I snap. "I get it. You have to set the better example cause you're the damn older brother! You know what?! Fuck it!"

I flip him off and throw a punch at his face. He dodges and punches my in the stomach. But by now, I can't feel pain. I'm too angry. I kick him then punch him while he's holding his stomach. He falls to the ground, and I'm on top of him. My fists are as fast as lightning and as painful as bullets. I feel someone trying to pull me off, so I stand up. I turn, but all I see is grey. I freeze.

"Alfred…it happened again," I say quietly. I see blood, guns, broken bodies. And Alfred. He's holding his hand out to me. I hear a distant wailing sound. My throat burns, blood clouds my vision. And I hear voices. _Great, I've finally lost it._ The vision clears, and I'm staring at a floor. My hands are behind my back, someones holding them. I look up, scared out of my mind. Countries are crowded around someone. I see Alfred's hair between their legs.

Then, I lose my shit. "ALFRED! THEY'RE BACK, THE SOLDIERS CAPTURED NEW ORLEANS! THEY'VE CAPTURED THE CITY! THEY'RE GOING TO KILL ME!" I scream out. Countries look up in alarm.

But, me shouting what I had shouted when the soldiers tried to kill me, had the desired effect. Al, bless his heart, sat straight up and shouted back, "BACK DOWN SOLDIERS! HE'S MY DAMNED BROTHER!"

I grin and say, "Mornin, bro. Now who the hell is holding my hands?" I turn my head to see behind me and I see a smiling Russian. "Damn it. I don't have the damn patience," I growl. Alfred looks towards me. I look down in shame and mutter, "Sorry. My anger got the best of me, and I released it on the wrong person. Now who the hell called my brother fat and stupid?! I swear, I will find a way to kill them in the most painful way possible."

I glare at the countries and hear a voice whisper in my ear, "Calm down or I will have to use my pipe, da?" I freeze and everything starts to blur around the edges.

My southern accent finally shows as I whisper, "Alfred, it's happening again. The blood, the war, the pain." I look at him. "Dear God, it's happening. Do you think I'll be able to thank my brave soldiers? Will I see Lee again? Will I have to be shot again…?" Alfred starts to get up but gray is closing in fast. "Poor Virginia. Louisiana. Texas. Florida." I start to close my eyes and someone jerks my chin up and slaps me across the face.

"Damn it Conner Lee Jones! I am not going to let you see that war again!" I open my eyes and see a blurry outline. The grey recedes as he talks about the times in the park, at the ice cream shop, at the ocean. I blink my eyes one more time to see Alfie staring at me worried to all hell.

"You look like shit," I laugh out.

"You throw a mean right hook. Can I get you back?"

"Yep. Fire away," I close my eyes and prepare for the worst.

"OoH! Your so cute! Who would have thought this little cutie is the only real match for me?! You're so cute Connie-boy! Connie, Connie, commie!" My eyes fly open and I glare at the grinning Yankee.

"OI! I ain't a damn pinko-commie! Don't even start that shit Yank! That wasn't called for! Yeowch!" Alfred pinches my cheeks and makes me look like a fish. Admittedly a very pissed looking fish. A couple countries chuckle. I cross my eyes and blow out my cheeks.

"Hey! Look at me! I'm that guy on the corner who eats McDonalds all the time!" I say evilly. Alfred glares and gets me in another headlock. By now the Russian has let go. As soon as he starts to noogie me I start flailing my arms wildly. I just happen to flip him off as I do so. Now I can hear quite a few countries laughing their heads off.

"Say it!" I hear Alfie shouts gleefully.

"Nope! I already said it today!" I shout back. "And don't you dare throw forks at me!"

He laughs and replies, "Nope! You have to say it~!"

I groan and say, "You're the damn fucking hero. There. I said it."

America laughs and keeps me in a headlock, dragging me along after him. A man with green eyes and thick eyebrows step in front of him. "America. Who the bloody hell is this?!"

I bristle and start shouting, "Who is this?! Who is _this?!_ I'll fucking tell you, you damn Brit! I'm the Confederacy!" I twist and finally I open my mouth and bite down on Alfred's arm. Hopefully he didn't need it. He releases me and starts screaming curses I can't, and really don't want to, hear.

I bare my teeth at the Brit. He backs off and I taste something metallic in my mouth. I roll my eyes and scoff, "Scared of me cause I have blood on my teeth? Believe me, I've looked worse."

"Tell us who you are and we won't hurt you, da?" I hear a voice behind me say. I whirl around, and come face to face with the creepy Russian.

"Dude, you look like a mass murderer who's about to kill someone else," I reply to the question. The Russian stops smiling and I continue, "You know there's a medium right? In between creepy and happy? It's called a poker face. But, eh. What would a pinko-commie know?"

I sense it before I see it. I duck and see the pipe going over my head. I step to the side as the Russian brings the pipe down. It hits the floor and now he's glaring at me. My face is as cold as ice, and I have an expression of seriousness on my face.

"Alfred. Now can I have my weapons?" I ask calmly.

"NO! We do _not_ need you running around with a rifle, several revolvers and dozens of knives! And I am _not_ going to bail you out of jail again!" he shouts at me.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't _my_ fault you left several beers out. Although it was funny when you tried to explain who I was without bringing up the Civil War," I reply laughing. I tense and feel something hit the side of my head. I hear ringing in my ears and I'm staring at the ceiling dazed.

"What…the…fuck?" I spit out. Everything's blurry and I reach out blindly for my glasses. Someone steps on my hand and I grit my teeth, no sound escaping my mouth.

"Yo, dude! Get off his hand so he can grab his glasses," Alfred says to the Russian stepping on my hand. He sighs and steps off. Someone hands me my glasses and I put them on. I examine my hand and twist it this way and that to make sure nothing is broken.

"Heh. Wouldn't be the first time someone shattered the bones in my hand, _brother_ ," I laugh, glaring at Alfred. He chuckles nervously and looks away. I get up and stretch, my arms cracking as I do so. I turn to the Russian and grin.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

 **Okay, another warning. Conner is a history fanatic. He does a lot of research on other countries, so he describes his own history as well as two other's. If y'all don't want to read it, you don't have to. I learned a lot though when I was doing research an found it interesting but you guys might not. Just a warning. Oh! And he likes to cook his own food because he doesn't like what America eats.**

"Hey, wanna get together sometime and hang out?" I ask smiling dangerously. Alfred glares at me and I look up innocently. "What? I can't fight anymore? Cause that's too bad," I say smiling sweetly.

The Russian smiles back and replies, "I will think about it, da?" Alfred starts freaking out and I roll my eyes. I smile at the Russian and nod. I turn around and prepare for the worst.

"Yes, I want to know too," a French guy asks. I sigh.

"Well, you see, America went through the Civil War in the 1800's. Half of his people were racist and didn't want black people to be counted fully as people. The Southerners wanted them to be counted fully as people. When some of his states seceded I was born. Well, more like generated. I was eighteen when I popped into existence and ready to fight. I'm not as big as Alfred because I'm younger. He's stronger, I'm faster. I was known, by the Yankees, as the South. He was the Union. I came close to winning the war, but in the end he won. So there's been a family like competition ever since," I finish. "I try to annoy him as much as possible and he tries to keep people away from me. And honestly France. You, at least, should have remembered me. _Ally._ " I glare at the Nation and he mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like, "I knew he looked familiar," to England.

I glance at Alfred who's still freaking out about his younger brother and the Russian becoming friends. I hear a voice behind me, "Yo! That was cool! But, the awesome me already knows how to do that!" I glance behind me and see an albino Nation. I furrow my brow, trying to remember all of Alfie's friends. "I'm the awesome Prussia!" he shouts, telling me what I wanted to know.

I turn to him and smile. I bow and straighten up. "Hello, Prussia. According to the things I read on the internet, you are no longer a nation," I say smiling comfortably. He opens his mouth to say something, but I interrupt. "I do extensive research on all of Alfie's friends. Such as England. England is a country that is part of the United Kingdom. It shares land borders with Scotland to the north and Wales to the west. The Irish Sea lies northwest of England and the Celtic Sea lies to the southwest. England is separated from continental Europe by the North Sea to the east and the English Channel to the south. The country covers much of the central and southern part of the island of Great Britain, which lies in the North Atlantic; and includes over 100 smaller islands such as the Islands of Scilly, and the Isle of Wight.

"The area now called England was first inhabited by modern humans during the Upper Palaeolithic period, but takes its name from the Angles, one of the Germanic tribes who settled during the 5th and 6th centuries. England became a unified state in the 10th century, and since the Age of Discovery, which began during the 15th century, has had a significant cultural and legal impact on the wider world. The English language, the Anglican Church, and English law – the basis for the common law legal systems of many other countries around the world – developed in England, and the country's parliamentary system of government has been widely adopted by other nations. The Industrial Revolution began in 18th-century England, transforming its society into the world's first industrialized nation.

"England's terrain mostly comprises low hills and plains, especially in central and southern England. However, there are uplands in the north, for example, the mountainous Lake District, Pennines, and Yorkshire Dales, and in the south west, for example, Dartmoor and the Cotswolds. The capital of England is London, which is the largest metropolitan area in the United Kingdom and the largest urban zone in the European Union by most measures. England's population of over 53 million comprises 84% of the population of the United Kingdom, largely concentrated around London, the South East, and conurbations in the Midlands, the North West, the North East and Yorkshire, which each developed as major industrial regions during the 19th century.

"The Kingdom of England – which after 1284 included Wales – ceased being a separate sovereign state on 1 May 1707, when the Acts of Union put into effect the terms agreed in the Treaty of Union the previous year, resulting in a political union with the Kingdom of Scotland to create the Kingdom of Britain. In 1801, Great Britain was united with the Kingdom of Ireland through another Act of Union to become the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. In 1922 the Irish Free State seceded from the United Kingdom, leading to the latter being renamed the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland," I finish. England's eyes are wide, Prussia is laughing his head off, and Alfred's blushing.

"Shall I continue?" I ask raising an eyebrow at the shocked Brit. Prussia nods yes while laughing but the other two shout, "NO!" simultaneously. I laugh and grin at Prussia. "Should I recite your history?" He shrugs still smiling.

"Prussia was a historic state originating out of the Duchy of Prussia and the Margravate of Bradenburg, and centered on the region of Prussia. For centuries, the House of Hohenzollern ruled Prussia, successfully expanding its size by way of an unusually well-organized and effective army. Prussia, with its capital in Königsberg and from 1701 moved to Berlin, shaped the history of Germany. In 1871, German states united to create the German Empire under Prussian leadership. In November 1918, the monarchies were abolished and the nobility lost its political power during the German Revolution of 1918-19. The Kingdom of Prussia was thus abolished in favor of a republic—the Free State of Prussia, a state of Germany from 1918 until 1933. From 1933, Prussia lost its independence as a result of the Prussian coup, when the Nazi regime was successfully establishing its "Gleichschaltung" laws in pursuit of a unitary state. With the end of the Nazi regime, the division of Germany into allied-occupation zones and the separation of its territories east of the Oder-Neisse line, which were incorporated into Poland and the Soviet Union, the State of Prussia ceased to exist de facto in 1945. Prussia existed de jure until its formal liquidation by the Allied Control Council Enactment No. 46 of 25 February 1947. Now that's just a small piece of your interesting history," I finish, yawning. Prussia's absolutely delighted. _I might actually like this guy…_ I wave and start to walk out the room.

"Wait! Conner. Since you're here, you can join us," Alfred sighs. I grin and whip around, danger filling my eyes.

"If you want, Yankee," I say grinning evilly. Alfred glares as I switch my smile to sweet. Sickly sweet. "I, myself am hungry. Where's the damn kitchen, Yank?"

"There isn't a kitchen here," Alfred says blankly. I stare at him then face-palm.

"Of _course._ You always eat those nasty things. I'm going home. If anyone wants something edible follow me," I growl. I stomp out the room as several countries stare at each other in mute surprise. I walk down the stairs and open the door. Several nations go through the door. The Prussian, a German, the Russian, an Italian, and Canada. Two nations rush out the door before I can follow. The Brit and the Frenchie. The car is going to be crowded.

I walk out into the rain and rush into the car. I rev the engine since the chauffeur is on break. I start along the country lane leading to my house. I remember the mess it's in because of America dashing around, and grin.

I pull into the drive and open the car door for the nations. I hurry up the steps and dig out my key I swiped from America three months ago. I unlock the door and walk inside. Thanks to me, it smells like lavender and mint. The other nations follow me in and gaze at the rooms.

"Sorry. America was running around this mornin'. I wasn't able to clean so it's nasty. And don't get me started on his room," I explain. England stares at me in shock.

"Wait…you call _this_ messy?" he asks. I nod. "Wha-? How do you deal with him?!" To this I shrug.

I walk into the hallway in front of the kitchen, and sigh at the fork in the wall. The others seem worried as I tug it out of the wall. "I pissed him off this morning by saying I could substitute for him," I say walking into the kitchen and frowning at the mess. I right his chair and empty his bowl of cereal into the trash. I grab a towel and a mop. I twirl around the room, cleaning everything. The nations stare as the once messy kitchen becomes sparkling clean.

I finish and I check my watch. 1 minute, 13 seconds. I smile. New record. I get out several ingredients and say over my shoulder, "The living room is near the front door. Explore the house but stay out of America and my rooms." The nations break, some going to the living room and some to go explore the house. I stir and mix and bake. I set the table and put the jambalaya in the middle. I put plates out and I bring my fingers to my lips. I let out a low, echoing whistle. Soon, everyone's gathered at the table.

 **A/N:**

 **Quick question what type of movies do you think Conner likes? And yes, I've already decided, I just want to know what y'all think he likes.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here we go again. Conner** ** _just_** **can't leave Alfred alone can he?**

"Warning. The jambalaya is hot, in temperature and taste," I grin and twirl my fork in my hands. I start to eat my jambalaya and I hear a chorus of voices complementing my cooking. Then I remember something. I get up and get down eight cups. I put ice in each and toss over my shoulder, "What does everyone want to drink?"

"Beer."

"Beer."

"Water~!"

"Tea, please."

"Vodka."

"Wine, s'il-vous-plaît."

"Water, please."

I pour all the drinks and serve them to each person. I sit back down and finish eating. I stretch and say, "Well, I have to go. Just explore. I don't care if you mess up Alfie's room but I'm going to be in my room." I walk out the door and towards the stairs. I pick up the random things Alfred threw at me and walk up the stairs. I open the door to my room and put everything down.

I lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling. I sigh, and stand up. I unbutton my shirt and slide it off. I walk to the bathroom door, but I catch a glimpse of my torso anyway. A long pale scar on the side. Dozens of bullet wounds on my back, long since healed. I get the shower going and as I wait for it to heat up I grab my laptop.

I enter two words. "Civil War," I whisper, typing them in. I stare grimly at the pictures. I sigh and rub my eyes. I close my laptop and stand, stretching. I walk to the bathroom and get in the shower.

I walk out the bathroom, towel around my waist. I dry my hair with another towel. I throw that into the laundry bin in my closet. I take out sleep-ware and put it on. My comfortable sweats, and my shirt with my flag. I open my laptop and type in 'Germany.' I click on Wikipedia and scan through. Next up is 'Italy.' I finish scanning through the histories clicking out of everything. My background appears, me in uniform, standing next to America in his Union uniform. This was years after the war. I smile slightly and close the laptop.

I stretch and walk into the hallway. _If they're sleeping here, I guess I can cancel their rooms and set up guest rooms._ I walk downstairs and turn a corner. And run into someone.

"HEY! Watch where you're going!" I shout, glaring at the smiling Russian. "And what's your name?" I ask, curiously. _Conner! Don't ask questions! Curiosity killed the cat!_ I rub my eyes and sigh. "Sorry. Alfie says I'm too curious for my own good. He said I'm gonna get shot one day, not that I haven't already," I mumble, looking down. I feel a hand clap on my shoulder, but I don't look up.

"You've been shot before?" the Russian asks. I turn my head away.

"Uh…I gotta go. Are you staying here, or going back to your hotel?" I ask, not answering the question. The Russian stares at me for a moment before taking his hand off my shoulder.

"I'm going to stay here, da?" he says. I nod and walk away quickly. I cast a quick glance behind me. The Russian has another smile on his face but it's…different. I shake my head and walk faster.

I walk into the living room and find no one there. I sigh in relief and go to the movies in the corner. I take out one of my favorites, "Frankenstein." I put the DVD in the DVD player. I sit on the couch and pull my blanket out of the cabinet near the couch. The movie starts playing and I snuggle deeper into my blanket. I fight off fatigue and continue watching. Eventually, I fall asleep, curled up underneath my blanket.

I wake up, and rub my eyes groggily. I flop back down onto the couch. _Couch…?_ I feel someone poke me and I grumble something. I feel someone poke me again so I say, "Go 'way Yank. Can't ya let me sleep?" I burrow further down into my blanket. The poke comes again, more insistent. I mumble, "Stop it. I'll make breakfast in a lil' bit. Now go 'way."

"You're not a morning person are you?" someone who is _definitely_ not Alfred asks. I peek out from beneath my blanket, extremely confused.

"Who are you?" I ask, the person in front of me blurry. I realize I don't have my glasses on. "Wait…where're my glasses? Ugh…I need coffee." I flop back down onto the pillow that had _not_ been there before. "Talk to me _after_ I've had coffee. Now give me mah glasses."

Someone hands me my glasses and I put them on. I blink a few times then look at the person that woke me up. The damn Brit. He raises his eyebrow and says, "Now can you make breakfast. No one wants to eat my food."

I groan. "Hey, next time don't wake me. I have an inner clock. It's not time for breakfast. It's only eight. I serve breakfast at nine," I say glaring at the Englishman. He ignores me and I sit up. I stand up and walk past him. I shuffle into the kitchen, yawning. I pour coffee into a cup that proclaims, "Blood is thicker than water!" I add milk, sugar and cream to my coffee. I heat it in the microwave and add whip cream on top. I take a sip and feel myself start to wake up.

I take a carton of eggs out of the fridge. I set a pan on the stove and take out the butter. I start making eggs while drinking my coffee. I take out a toaster and a loaf of bread. I take out bacon and another pan. I start toasting the bread and make a lot of bacon. I take out the cinnamon sugar I made the other day. I put butter on the pieces of toast. I take out jam, jelly, honey, and plain cinnamon. I set the buffet on the table and sit to the right of the head of the table.

I hear the shout of, "I"M THE HERO!" greet me. I groan and slam my head against the table.

"Can't _you_ sleep late today? You woke up at six yesterday," I groan. Alfred sits next to me and grins.

"Didn't ya miss me? Oh yeah, I set everyone up in the guest rooms for you Connie," he says, _way_ too cheerful. I nod and munch on my toast. I eat my food and glance at Alfred. Bad idea. I feel my stomach roiling and I quickly look away.

I finish my food and stand up. "Alfred, if we're going to have guests I'm going to the store," I say, smirking. Alfie stills.

"No. You cannot leave this house Conner," he growls. I grin and lean against the door way.

"Why not? Scared I'm gonna get arrested again?" I taunt, smirking. "It only happens when I get pissed! And I'm too fast, why would you even worry?"

"Conner. You can't shoot a police officer," Alfred says glaring.

"Ooh! I know! You can go to the store, and I can substitute for today!" I say grinning.

"NO! I told you yesterday! I've told you since I took you under my wing! The answer is no!" Alfred shouts, glaring. I grin, knowing I'm gonna get another funny reaction.

"So…you're willing to hide your brother away, and only reveal him when the time is necessary?" I ask, pretending to be confused. Alfred knocks back his chair as he stands up. He glares at me, and I smirk. He throws his plate of eggs at me and I run.

"Conner Jones. You are going to _die!_ " I hear him shout behind me.

"Yeah, I know!" I shout back, grinning. I race up the stairs and past a few confused nations. I rocket into Alfred's room, and hide in his closet. I hear Alfred cursing and stomping around downstairs. The door to his room creaks open and I freeze, not even daring to breathe. I hide behind his clothes that are hanging in the closet. The door to the closet opens and I stand stock still, my eyes screwed shut.

"Damn! You pissed America off hugely!" I hear a voice say. I peek out from behind the clothes to look at the Prussian. I grin.


	5. Chapter 5

"It's like our daily routine. In a few minutes he'll completely forget about it. Why do you think he's always late?" I reply, stepping out from behind the clothes. "Anyways, I don't want to go with him today. And since its Octoberfest I got beer," I say, grinning. Then a thought occurs to me and my face falls.

"What's wrong?" he asks confused.

"I have to clean today," I sigh. "Then I can play video games and drink beer."

Prussia nods, sullen. Then he brightens up. "The awesome me can help you!"

I pale slightly. I sigh, resigned to the fact that I'm going to have a Prussian "helping" me clean the house. I walk out the room towards mine. I open the door, and when Prussia tries to follow I block the door.

"Nope! You don't need to help me get dressed," I proclaim loudly, closing the door. I lock it and walk to my closet. I take out a shirt that says, 'Sorry. Don't care.' I pull it on, wincing slightly when it touches the bayonet wound. I check the wound and find that it has a few bruises above it.. I sigh, pulling on my favorite pair of jeans. I open my door smiling happily. I grab my phone and ear buds on my way out. I put them in my ears and turn on my playlist full of absolutely random songs.

A song I know all too well starts. I grin and start singing loudly _Superheros_ by The Script.

A shout comes from upstairs, interrupting my song, "SHUT UP CONNER!"

I sing louder.

Alfred's voice comes again, "I SAID 'Shut up'!"

I sing even louder.

"Shut up! Stop singing you idiot!"

Even louder.

I hold the ice Alfred gave me to my forehead. "Owww. That really hurt Alfie. Why did you have to hit me with a baseball bat?" I ask wincing.

He starts lecturing me, "When someone asks you to stop, then you stop. You don't keep annoying them while they're working. You have t— no. No. Don't! NO! You cannot make that face! No! You are evil!" America shouts as I make an adorable puppy dog face, effectively ruining his resolve not to break.

I grin, knowing I won. America sighs. "Fine. You don't have to do the chores today," America sighs. I grin and leap into the air.

"Yay! I can watch my monster movie marathon!" I shout, overjoyed.

I run to the living room as the TV blares: "The FBI are covering up the bloodbath at a monastery in Alabama, which involved the death of 20 monks and six locals." I grab several random movies on the shelf.

"Hey, Conner can you please move?" Canada asks quietly.

"Yeah, sure!" I answer running out the room, towards the stairs. I sprint up the stairs two at a time. I burst into my room and go to the back. I move the mannequin with a Confederate uniform and a bloody gray hat to a corner. I kneel in front of the TV the mannequin had been standing in front of. I put in _Dracula_ and grab one of my fluffy blankets off my bed.

I yawn and stretch, turning off the TV. I use the blanket like a cloak as I walk to my bed. I look at the clock next to my bed. It reads 1:06 AM. I collapse onto my bed. Soon, I'm fast asleep.

I'm standing on a battlefield, the grass glistening red. Bodies in gray and blue uniforms lie everywhere. I see craters, bodies lying in them like broken toy soldiers. I gaze around the battlefield, looking for survivors. I can barely see a boy trying to crawl to the tree line, but he collapses. I walk closer to him, but it seems as if for every step I take I never get any closer. I hear a boom from behind. I turn to look and I see a cannon ball whistling towards my head.

I wake up, screaming something along the lines of, "Help! You can't have my head!" I feel something wet on my face. I touch my cheek with my trembling hand. When I pull it away, I see tears. I had been crying in my sleep. Not the first time. I hear thundering footsteps and my door flies open. I see Alfred standing in the doorway, terrified. He crosses the room in a few strides. He wraps me in a hug, and all I can do is cry into his shoulder. I hear other countries come in but I ignore them.

"A cannon ball," I finally get out after most of my tears have dried up. Alfred frowns and hugs me closer.

"Please don't cry~! It makes me sad!" Italy cries from the corner. I rub my eyes with my fist, like a little kid. When I look up, all the other countries are looking at me worriedly. I blush and grab my pillow decorated with the bars and stars. I hug it to my chest and bury my face in it.

"Which type?" Alfred asks me.

"Cookie dough," I reply, my voice muffled by the pillow. Alfred gets up to leave and I hear his footsteps fading away.

"Are you okay?" England asks, concerned. I bury my head deeper into the pillow and nod.

"Just my recurring nightmare," I say into the pillow. I feel someone hug me. Alarm flashes through my mind. I jerk my head up, alarmed. _I can't let anyone see the scars._ I try to scoot away from the offending Frenchman, but he just hugs me tighter. Alfred walks into the room with a gallon of cookie dough ice cream. Literally a gallon. I glance at the Frenchie and Alfred frowns. He practically pulls him off of me and hands me my ice cream. I hold out my other hand expectantly. Alfred hands me a spoon, as I pop open the lid of the ice cream container.

As I start shoveling chunks of ice cream I hear someone say, "Slow down with the ice cream! You might get a brain freeze!" I completely ignore them and shovel the ice cream in faster.

"Which movie, Conner?" I hear Alfred ask me quietly.

I take a break from shoveling ice cream in my mouth to reply. " _La Révolution française_ 1989\. Ninth from the right, third shelf." Alfred nods and runs downstairs.

"Quoi? Why a documentary on the French Revolution?" France asks, confused.

"I-it was interesting. B-boy, a lot of heads sure r-rolled," I reply, still shoving ice cream down my throat. I can almost feel France frown.

"Pas drôle," he says.

I smile. "Oui, ça l'est," I reply in perfect French. I ignore the shocked Frenchman, and continue eating. Soon, I'm three fourths of the way done with my wonderful ice cream. Alfred comes back in with a small portable TV and the movie I requested.

"You've already watched this a dozen times Conner. But I guess this won't hurt," he sighs, putting the movie in. I shrug.

"Wh-" someone starts.

"Shush! Leave me alone and shut up!" I hiss, not looking away from the screen. The light glows on my face as I move my lips with the words. My eyes start to droop, but I fight to stay awake and watch the rest of the movie. Finally, I fall into a dreamless sleep.

 **A/N: Oh my God! I'm so sorry! Thank you Elricgurl for telling me this chapter was for some reason published in code! Ok, I have a question. Do y'all think Conner will come closer to the person in his dream? If so, who is it?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:**

 **I've had a bit of a sucky night, but typing cheers me up! I'm feeling a bit better now...**

I yawn, blinking my eyes at my alarm clock which is currently blaring "Grand Old Flag." I turn off my clock and stand up stretching. I grab my glasses. I frown at them, confused.

"Wasn't that crack bigger?" I murmur to myself, tracing the now thin crack on my glasses. "Hmm." I put them on and open my door. I walk down the stairs, humming "Renegades." I walk into the kitchen, smiling, even though I haven't had my coffee. I pour myself a cup of said drink. I sip then take out pancake mix.

I check that we have maple syrup imported from Canada, then pull out milk, eggs and butter. Soon, I'm wide awake and singing softly. I flip and mix and stir. Alfred walks in as I mix some more pancakes.

"Can I have some coffee?" he asks blearily.

I nod cheerfully and point to the coffee machine. "It's over there BB." I look up as Canada walks in. I beam at him then continue making pancakes.

"Alfred, you need to watch this," Canada says holding up his phone.

"What do I—" he takes a sip of his coffee and spits it out. "What the hell is _this_ shit?!" he asks glaring at me.

" _Excuse_ me?" I ask, glaring back. "You take that back right now! I make the best coffee in the country!"

"Like hell!" he shouts back. I turn smiling, hiding the spoon loaded with pancake mix behind my back.

"Have it your way," I reply smiling as I launch the mix at his head. It lands with a soft _plop_ on his nose. He goes cross-eyed trying to see it. I laugh and he glares at me. I grin cheekily. He throws an egg at me, and I yelp, ducking. It becomes a full fledged war between us. Canada looks worried, and the other nations are awake, rubbing their eyes. I duck, twist and throw, trying to get away from flying food, and at the same time trying to hit Alfred with pancake mix.

Canada grabs the extremely large plate of pancakes I already made and says to someone, "Grab the maple syrup before they ruin that too!" I smile and grab the carton of milk. I make my way over to Alfred, who's trying to get more eggs, and dump it on his head. At the same time, he turns around and smashes an egg into my chest. We stare at each other for a minute, then we start laughing hysterically. I sit down on the floor and laugh so hard my stomach starts hurting. Alfred has a similar reaction.

When my laughs die away, I'm breathing heavily still grinning. I look over at our guests and announce, "Welcome to the normal Jones' household!" Somehow this starts me off laughing again, while Alfred rolls his eyes, also still smiling. I get up and sigh.

"Now, I have to go do my things," I say as I push a large carton of butter at the other nations. I walk upstairs, into my room. I change into jeans and a plain white shirt. I grab my laptop. I plop down on my bed, then type in _'online history classes.'_ I scroll past the ones I've already signed onto, looking for some I haven't done yet. My tongue sticks out to the side as I search.

I hear the door open. "What are you doing now?" Alfred asks, walking into the room.

I gesture at my screen as he looks over my shoulder. "Oh, that again," he sighs. I glare at him. He ignores me as he walks out my room into the hallway. I sigh, defeated.

I type in, _'youtube,'_ the site coming up immediately. I click on the link, taking me to the "homepage." I type in _'sad songs.'_ I click on a video entitled "We The Kings-Sad Song (lyric video) ft. Elena Coats." I listen to the music, letting it fill my room. I close my eyes, tired even though the day has hardly begun.

I wake up, confused. My laptop has turned itself off. I look out the only window in my room right above my bed. The sunlight is coming in from the west at about a 45 degree angle.

"Holy shit!" I exclaim, leaping out of my bed. I yank my door open and tear down the hall. "Watch out! Coming through! Holy shit!" I yell, practically running over several nations. I stop in the middle of the hallway, looking down at my clothes. "Shit-biscuits!" I shout, running back to my room.

I come out a few minutes later, dressed in a black t-shirt and black jeans. I run downstairs and down several hallways. I run into a large grassy yard. I breathe in and smile. I grab the wooden bow that I made. I draw an arrow out of my quiver, checking that it's straight. Satisfied, I draw back and fire. The arrow thuds into a tree all the way across the yard. I drop my bow and start jogging around the yard. I slowly speed up with each lap until I'm sprinting around the field. I hear clapping and slow down, looking around. I see the Italian clapping with several nations standing with him. I raise an eyebrow.

"What're y'all doing out here?" I question, my southern accent once again making an appearance. I stretch my arms over my head as I stop in front of them.

"We wanted to know why you were in such a hurry ve~" the cheerful Italian says, smiling happily. I stare at him then up to the German who seems to be his "keeper."

"He is correct," the tall man confirms. I sigh.

"Well then. Now you know why I was out here. Hey, Russia, can you hand me that gun?" I ask, pointing at a musket in a glass case against the wall. The Russian glances at it then back at me.

"Why is it in a glass case, comrade?" he asks. I chuckle rubbing the back of my neck.

"Alfie doesn't want me to use guns, but that gun doesn't count 'cause he doesn't know about it," I say, walking over to the glass case and popping the lid up. I pick up the sleek musket. I smile. I stand at attention, then start going through my military training exercises. I finish and raise my gun to my shoulder, pointing into the forest.

"Can someone set up a target for me?" I ask, looking up from the sight. Prussia puts a circular target at the end of the field. Once he's out of the way, I start shooting. The nations watch as I shoot, over and over again. Once I run out of bullets I lower the gun.

"You have great aim."

"I can use you. Become one, da?"

"Germany! He's scary!"

"It's okay Italy."

Voices shatter the silence. I groan inwardly. Why did they have to follow me to my one safe haven? I sense another presence in my safe haven. I turn, about to tell them off, but I freeze, dropping my gun.

"Conner. Why do you have a gun?" Alfred asks dangerously. I glance at the gun on the ground. I glance back up at Alfred.

"Um…target practice?" I try. Alfred growls, ignoring the other nations, walking closer to me. I stand my ground, not letting my feet gain control.

"Give me the gun," Alfred orders. I bite my lip.

"No. This is my safe haven," I retort. Alfred slams his fist into my stomach but I hardly move. "You can't have my gun," I growl, not willing to collapse from the punch.

"America, why can't Conner have a gun?" Germany asks. America glances at him, his eyes devoid of all emotion.

"I don't want him taking pot shots at me after one of his nightmares again," he replies, his eyes flicking back to me. "I had to barricade myself in my room last time." The other countries glance at one another. I stand tall regarding my brother with the same cool gaze. I feel an arm clamp around my waist from behind.

"What th-?" I'm cut off as America punches me again. I break loose from the arms restraining me. My brother and I become a storm of flying fists and kicks. I clock him on the head and he crumples. I freeze, looking at him. "What the fuck? The last time I did that was at the beginning of the Civil War," I mutter, nudging my unconscious brother with my foot.

"Conner, why are you bleeding?" Prussia asks. I look down at myself seeing no red. I look at my shoulder, my breath catching. A bullet wound had reopened, but how? I pull my shirt over my head to check the reopened wound. It looks as if it had just happened.

"Don't ask me," I mutter, stomping away, my shirt in my hand.

 **A/N:**

 **Why is Conner bleeding? How did he knock Alfred out? What's going on? Review please!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:**

 **Yay, another dream! Although it doesn't exactly turn out well...and sorry! It's not as long as it normally is...**

I sit against the wall in my room, running a hand through my hair. I sigh, leaning my head back. I close my eyes, trying to think of a good memory. Soon, I'm on my side fast asleep.

I'm standing in the same battlefield as before. I look towards the horizon, looking for movement. I walk, not getting any closer. I set my jaw in grim determination. I hear another boom from behind. This time I duck as the cannonball flies over my head. It crashes into a pile of bodies in front of me. I start to jog away, never coming any closer to the figure on the horizon. I hear the report of a rifle in the distance. I feel something hit my back, hard.

I wake up again screaming, "Don't shoot!" I hear thundering footsteps from Alfred's room. I curl up in a ball, sobbing into my bed cover.

"Oh God, Conner! Don't worry, it'll be okay," Alfred says as he wraps his arms around me. I cling to him like a life boat. Tears are marching down my face in straight lines.

"Rifles, bullets, cannons, bodies, blood," I ramble, tears still sliding down my face. "Someone shot me again. In the middle of the back. I don't wanna be shot again." By now, I'm completely broken down. Completely snapped. Now anyone can see who I am on the inside. A scared kid, scared to go to battle again, haunted by ghosts.

"Shhh. Don't worry. Everything will be okay," Alfred reassures me. He starts singing a song he sang to me after the war.

 _"_ _A thousand tears fall down your cheeks,_

 _Millions of ghosts haunt your thoughts._

 _But I'll be here, lighting the way for you."_

I join in softly.

 _"_ _No one will see, the terrified faces._

 _No one will see, you crying in the night._

 _Except for me._

 _Tell me what's wrong, tell me what's right."_

I pull away smiling sadly. I feel a pain where the bullet hit my back. I hiss, Alfred's hand pressing against the open wound. Alfred stares at me puzzled. His eyes widen as he realizes it's not sweat he's feeling from my back. He forces me to stand, running to the bathroom connected to my room. He turns me around to examine my back. I glance at him, extremely confused. My big brother is chewing his lip, worry clear in his eyes. He takes hydrogen peroxide and a few cotton balls. I groan, understanding what he's doing. I wait, bored, for him to finish cleaning the wound.

"England! Can you get me some more cotton balls? I ran out," he shouts into the bedroom. I wince. I feel his fingers gently prodding around the wound.

"I hope you washed your hands," I hiss through my teeth. Alfred pauses for a moment then I hear the sink being turned on. I roll my eyes. "So your first reaction to a wound, is to go clean it. Not wash your hands? God, there's something wrong with you." He smacks me on the back of the head.

"At least you reminded me! Good God are you ungrateful!" he says harshly. I roll my eyes.

"Let me put it this way: if you had been shot, would you want me to clean my hands before cleaning the bullet wound?" I ask.

I hear mutters coming from him. Something like, "Whatever…You're still my little brother…" I smirk. I see England step into the bathroom, holding a bag of cotton balls. When he sees my back he covers his mouth in shock.

"What the bloody hell?!" he whispers. I shrug.

"I haven't even seen my wound. I'm pretty sure it's not too bad, trust me. My head was almost taken off by a cannon ball. Another time my knee was shattered," I inform him, still looking bored. England just stares at me, horrified. "What? I've been shot before."

"You…and you're still happy?" he asks amazed.

"Right now I'm just bored. True, Alfred shot me once and he shattered my knee, but I've done worse to him and we still manage to forgive each other," I look into the mirror and freeze. There's something off. I know it's still me, but my hair isn't as dull as it normally is. "What the fuck?" Alfred looks up.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"N-nothing," I mutter, still staring at my reflection. Why am I getting stronger? Why am I getting better? Why were my old wounds reopening? I furrow my brow, thinking.

I wake up feeling really weird. I shrug it off and turn off my alarm clock which is blaring "Goodbye" by Glenn Morrison. I pick up my glasses. I freeze, examining them. They don't have any cracks. At all, anywhere. None. They aren't broken anymore. I think of calling to Alfred, but I know on weekends he only wakes up around 12:00 PM. I walk into the kitchen, oblivious to the fact that several nations are watching the TV on the counter. I finally look up, taking notice of the countries. My jaw drops as I watch the news channel.


	8. Chapter 8

_"_ _-one is blowing this out of proportion."_ I recognize Alfred's boss standing at a podium. The screen flickers and it has a _very_ upset news anchor sitting in front of the camera.

 _"_ _We have breaking news. A video of the shooting has been released to us anonymously. We ask you to clear the room of all small children as the content is very graphic and some viewers may find it extremely disturbing."_ As the news anchor ends his statement all heads in the room turn to Italy.

"What?" he asks, confused.

We turn our attention to the TV as the video starts. There's a man in a white shirt holding his rifle pointed to the sky. He's trying to reason with another man in a dark uniform. There's a group of monks in the middle of the courtyard area. The man in the white shirt is yelling something at the men in the dark uniforms and the one who seems to be in charge starts yelling back. One of the monks being held at gunpoint starts forward and looks as if he's about to speak.

A younger nervous looking man turns towards the monk, letters spelling out FBI in bold letters on the back of his jacket, and shouts, "He's going for the chief!" The young man shoots the monk, blood spraying outward from his head. Everything freezes for a moment. Then some of the men behind the guy in the white shirt start shooting at the men in dark uniforms. A bullet hits one of the men, spinning him. The man in the white shirt tries to help the monks, but he falls. A second later, the phone drops and someone screams, "DADDY!" Someone else picks up the phone and turns it off. I knew that place. That place was in the _South._ I start twitching, about to punch something. I take deep breaths trying to calm myself down. I try to shove all my anger in a box.

I turn sharply and march out of the room. I march up the stairs to America's room. I yank open his door, marching stiffly into his room. "Wake up. Now. Or else I will get my damn gun, and shoot you," I growl, leaning over my brother. At the sound of the word gun, he jerks awake. He regards me nervously.

"What's wrong…?" he starts to ask. I shake my head.

"Look up 'monk shooting.' Then you'll understand," I growl. Alfred sits up.

"'Monk shooting'? What's going on? Conner, deep breaths. Ok, don't worry, everything will be alright." I remember something.

"America, did you get my glasses fixed?" I ask, looking at him. He looks at me puzzled, shaking his head.

"No. I was going to get you a new pair but apparently someone fixed 'em for you," he replies examining my glasses. All I can do is shrug. I turn away from him and walk out the door. I flip through my thoughts, trying to put them in order. I can't believe what I saw. I just…can't. I sit on the couch in the living room, staring at the floor. I get up, feeling restless.

I walk upstairs to my bathroom. I turn on the light and examine myself in the mirror. My eyes are less clouded, my hair less dull. My hair is also shorter, like it had been trimmed in my sleep. I'm not as pale as I usually am. _Why do I look like this? Is something…happening?_ I stare at myself in the mirror a few more minutes, scared. I tear myself away from the mirror and walk towards the door. I walk down the stairs, muttering to myself.

"Conner, I have a summons from my boss 'kay? I gotta go," I hear Alfred shout.

"Conner! Conner, where are you?" I hear Alfred shouting again. I close my eyes and sigh.

"I'm coming down," I shout back. As I keep walking towards Alfred's voice, I feel weird. Almost like…I'm gaining energy. I shake it off. I walk down the hall thinking. I shrug to myself.

"Conner? Why is my military uniform blue?" I hear Alfred ask. I look up. Alfred is standing in his uniform, but it's blue. And something about it is off. I stare at it, trying to place what's wrong. I take into account that for some reason, Alfred is fully armed. "Conner…? Why do you have your uniform on…?"

I start and look at my own outfit. My Confederate uniform. My breath catches. I slowly start to realize what's about to happen. I look up slowly, seeing the realization hit Alfred too.

He starts shaking his head rapidly, muttering, "No no no no no no no no…" I start breathing heavily. Alfred's head shoots up. "I-I have to go to the meeting. We can figure this out later."

 **A/N:**

 **Oh my. Now we see what's going on. Oh,** **dancergeek22, you weren't as far off as you thought. One more chapter!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:**

 **This is the last chapter for this story. I'm sorry...but don't worry! Our favorite southern boy will be back really quick!**

I think of what Alfred said as he left. _I can't let anyone know. They'll only take advantage of us…_ I run to the living room. I find sleeping bags on the floor, food and snacks everywhere and a mountain of ice cream. I grab my fluffy blanket and sit down in front of the TV, grabbing a gallon of ice cream. I start stress eating.

I feel a tap on my shoulder. "What?!" I snap.

"We're watching the news, mon ami," France says. I nod, looking at the TV.

The news person is speaking. _"The president has called a meeting with the governors. We're going there live, now. Frank, can you tell us anything yet?"_

The screen becomes split in two and I see a black car pulling up behind the news anchor. _"Hello, the president is about to get started, we'll let you know what happens, minute by minute."_ My breath hitches. I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to look at France, who's giving me a grim smile. I smile wanly back. I start shoving more ice cream into my mouth. Soon, I'm finished with the first tub. I reach for another one, popping open the lid.

 _"We have just gotten news that the president has declared martial law,"_ the newscaster announces. I feel a flare of anger. I shove it into a box, letting my worry win. I curl up underneath my blanket, small tears escaping my eyes. _Martial law…_ The military was taking over. Looks of fear and worry cross the other nations faces. France just looks grim. I suddenly feel strange, like deja vu. I shake my head, terrified.

I start muttering so no one can hear, "No no no no no no… Not again…" I can see indistinct shapes walking around the room, like ghosts. So much has happened. I blink and the ghosts disappear. I turn my attention to the TV again. The man in front of the black car comes on again looking very stressed. I get up to grab another tub of ice cream.

 _"The Southern governors have called a meeting. We will be back in a bit,"_ he announces. I feel something twist at my heart. I feel a slight pain on my back, but ignore it. The pain just intensifies, soon it's ripping down my back like wildfire. I scream. I hear footsteps, I see the ceiling, a pair of blue eyes.

France whispers, "Je suis tellement désolé." I can only hear the word _sorry_ , as everything goes black.

I'm in the field again. I start walking, this time I'm actually getting closer. I hear the now familiar boom, and duck. The cannonball crashes in front of me. I start jogging. I hear the rifle report, the bullet just a ghost now. I finally reach the figure on the battlefield. I feel bile rise in my throat, tears threatening to spill over. On the ground in front of me is the lifeless body of my brother. Before I can do anything, my nightmare morphs.

Now, I'm standing on the side of a hill, a flag rising slowly like someone is holding it, with the sun rising with it. I see the Stars and Bars above the clean grass. The grass flickers, becoming drenched in blood, then returning to normal. I shake my head vigorously, trying to wake myself up. I hear a sound like drums behind me. Before I can turn to look, my dream turns pitch black.

All I can see is a lone figure, silhouetted in blue. I look at myself. I'm wrapped in a soft gray light, swirling and weaving around me. I look up and see the figure much closer. It's Alfred, his blue eyes holding an emotion I've never seen before in his eyes. Hatred. I fall backwards, trying to get away.

"You killed them Conner. They all died in vain. You sent them to their deaths," he hisses. He leans over me and hisses again, "You killed all of the people you loved. Even ones you never knew." He raises a foot to kick me, but he dissolves to dust as soon as it touches my side. A boy appears in his place. Only fifteen years old, too young for battle. Even so, his face is tired and weary. His gray uniform is torn and tattered. As I stand up, the boy falls backwards, a red stain blooming above his heart. He too, dissolves to dust. Many men, in blue and gray, appear and dissolve. The last to appear, is the man in a white shirt. He has gray eyes and brown hair. He steps forward, then topples backward, another red stain blooming above his heart.

I wake up to see Alfred on a bed across from mine. I turn my head, finding myself face-to-face with a sleeping Italian.

 **A/N**

 **The next story will be called _A Confederate Boy_ for (I think) obvious reasons. Conner _will_ be making a comeback.**


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